


Realization Part 2: Something More

by Cirilla Godefroy (Cumbersnatched)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Light Masochism, M/M, Mild Smut, One Shot, Smut, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 13:50:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cumbersnatched/pseuds/Cirilla%20Godefroy
Summary: Regis removes Geralt's stitches, then treats him to a neck and shoulder massage. Geralt decides he wants to return the favor and Regis is beside himself with shock. When Geralt decides he wants to do something, its impossible to tell him 'no'.





	Realization Part 2: Something More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Baptism in Blood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200242) by [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/pseuds/TrueTattoo). 

> An alternate scenario for the scene that plays out in Chapter 18 of Baptism in Blood and is written as a stand-alone 1 shot. Some dialog in the beginning is quoted or paraphrased. 
> 
> No major spoilers here except mentions of when the first kiss happened.
> 
> Go read Baptism in Blood!
> 
> Warnings:  
I don't want to spoil anything so read at your own risk!

Having rinsed his hands in the nearby creek, Regis returned to their camp fire. The elder rock troll they had befriended, Morvovio, had fallen asleep while gnawing on a leg of deer, and Geralt had seated himself up against the large tree in front of the fire. Still somewhat light headed from the sudden kiss they’d shared earlier, Regis looked for a distraction to focus on. His eyes landed on the mostly healed bruxa bite on Geralt’s neck, and the stitches that sorely needed to come out. 

“Let me look at your neck.” Regis sat next to Geralt and the Witcher scooted closer giving Regis better access. His brows drew together as he prodded the scarred tissue and plucked at one of the stitches tentatively. When Geralt reached up to scratch at them Regis smacked his hand away. “Let me, you’ll be able to relieve yourself of the annoyance soon enough.”

Regis grabbed his surgeons pack that was off to the side and pulled out a small pair of sheers. He hummed to himself, very much content as he worked out the stitches. He felt the same contentedness float along through the bond from Geralt’s end. Regis’s lip quirked up slightly and his eyes glistened in the firelight as he focused.

“There, all better.” He put the shears away and immediately Geralt went for the scarring tissue and scratched at it to relieve the itch.

Surprisingly, the bruxa bite on Geralt’s neck healed wonderfully and Regis commented such. “You always heal amazingly well Geralt. This time especially. I’d have thought for sure the damage that bruxa caused would have left more of a scar.” Regis trailed a fingertip lightly over the tissue, marveling at it. He felt Geralt shiver and Regis’s lip quirked up.

“Still seems a bit tight though. I have something that can help with that, and also prevent any further itching while it finishes healing.” He reached into his satchel again and pulled out a small jar of cream. “This has oatmeal, chamomile, hemp seed oil and a little mint in it.” Regis informed Geralt as he put a small amount on his fingers and began massaging it into the scar and surrounding tissue. He began to hum again as he worked, and felt Geralt’s stiff neck muscles relax. Geralt groaned and his eyes closed, giving him an idea.

He sat the jar to the side and nudged Geralt forward so that he could continue to work on Geralt’s neck, down to his shoulder. Regis settled in behind him and felt Geralt relax against him. He let the silence stretch as he worked. It was obvious nobody had ever given Geralt a massage before. Not Yen, nor Triss, it seemed, cared much about the Witcher's well being. Surely his Wolf pack may have thought to considering their experiences together, but it had been so long it certainly wouldn't have mattered. Geralt was full of tension and knots from the road and working on his vineyard, not to mention all the emotional and mental stress the Witcher must feel and keep inside most of the time. It’s a wonder he managed to do anything at all. His whole body must feel like one giant constantly healing bruise.

Regis moved to the other side of Geralt’s neck, finding the knots and working them out. His own eyes became half lidded as he focused and began to relax as well. The sound of Geralt’s groaning every time Regis touched on a particular tough or sore knot didn’t help either. The other shoulder was especially tense, and the sounds Geralt made were starting to make him feel uncomfortable as a familiar pull made its way to his groin. Regis doubled down on his focus. They’d only just had their first kiss! It wouldn’t do to give the easily keyed up Witcher the wrong idea. 

Regis thinned his lips in concentration and began to work both shoulders at once, easing pressure for a more relaxing massage now that the knots were out. Finally, Regis did the back of Geralt’s neck up into his scalp and hair, still damp from the river. Suddenly, Geralt’s spicy scent became thick, and Regis opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. His forehead had rested against the back Geralt’s head, and his nose was buried in the damp hair.

He’d been scenting Geralt again, but this time he wasn’t in his bat form and it was without any intention on his part.

“How do you feel?” Regis asked softly. He inhaled deeply and rubbed his cheek into Geralt’s hair. His hands had moved downward and were slowly kneading Geralt’s shoulders. Kneading was an instinctual habit he had when he was completely and utterly content.

It took several moments before Geralt stirred slightly, and Regis could feel a hint of insecurity and then determination come though their bond.

Regis could see the quirk of a grin on Geralt's lips. “Like I want to repay the favor.”

Regis’s eyes widened in surprise and he leaned back. Geralt turned around slightly and focused on him, determination in his eyes. “I’m serious Regis.”

“What?” Regis blinked, uncomprehending.

Geralt wanted to give him, Regis, a massage?

Regis put his hands up. “No, no no it’s fine you don’t have to go through the trouble for me!”

“No buts! You’re not getting out of this. Switch places with me.” Geralt stood and Regis looked up helplessly.

“Move it, Vampire.” Geralt’s voice brooked no argument.

“But—“

“I will move you myself if I have to!”

Regis’s eyes widened. “Okay! Melitele help me if I bat out on you it’s not my fault!” Regis reluctantly scooted forward and Geralt grinned down at him triumphantly.

“Stubborn Witcher,” Regis muttered under his breath as Geralt took a seat behind him.

“You like it.”

Regis tensed as long legs stretched out beside him on both sides. His cheeks reddened slightly and he silently thanked Melitele for the firelight that hid it.

“We will see about that,” Regis replied, resolving himself. Not to torture, oh no. Just the intimate act of having a massage done! He’s never had one. Not ever! Given them on occasion perhaps, in order to assist a patient’s ailments. So they were clinical in purpose only…Not intimate in the least.

Well, needless to say Geralt is far from clinical.

Strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him back. Instinctively, Regis resisted and crossed his arms. He was nervous and he really couldn’t help it.

“You are entirely too tense. Relax.” Regis felt Geralt pulse calm across their bond followed by safe and calm again. He focused on receiving the feelings and embraced them, while at the same time marveling how quickly Geralt had learned to use the newly formed pack bond to his advantage. Slowly, as Geralt repeatedly sent calm to him, Regis relaxed.

This time when Geralt pulled him back, he didn’t resist. Their warmth combined quickly now that Regis was leaning against Geralt’s chest. Large rough hands smoothed up and down his arms, heating and soothing them.

“Do you even know what you’re doing Witcher?” Regis teased, trying to further ease the tension he felt.

“I’ll figure it out you old bat.”

Regis smiled through thin lips. “Better not squeeze me too hard then, you might actually break me.”

“Nobody can break you. Now shush and relax.” Geralt squeezed both of Regis’s arms to further his point and then settled in on his shoulders.

Ah, how very wrong Geralt was. Regis was breakable, it just took the right person and a matter of patience and endurance. Something that Regis knew would be sorely tested this evening.

It wasn’t until Geralt started working that Regis realized how run down he was. He didn’t often sleep properly, and when he did, it was in a shack somewhere with barely a bed roll, or in a cave or crypt with naught at all. He almost preferred to sleep in his bat form upside down, but outside the full moon, he couldn’t maintain the form long enough for the sleep to matter. Yet when the moon did roll around and he slept that way, he would wind up having sore shoulders and neck for hours afterwards.

“Nnnn…” Regis pulled away and let out a low keen. Geralt had hit a particularly tender spot below his neck.

“It’s a knot Regis. They tend to hurt.” Regis didn’t hear it in Geralt’s voice, but he felt the exasperation through the bond.

“I know, I just wasn’t braced for it.” Regis ground out as he settled back against the Witcher.

“You’re not supposed to brace for it. _Relax._ Try to think of the pain in a good way.”

_That might not be a bad idea, but it’s not a good one either and for wholly different reasons_, Regis thought. When Geralt picked up where he left off, Regis took a deep breath. He focused on Geralt’s personal scent, the spiciness of it. The scent always seemed to ground him, but it also made his heart pang tenderly because until now, he never thought he would truly get to enjoy it. 

Regis closed his eyes as large hands gently but firmly worked the knot out and Regis lost himself to Geralt’s ministrations. Every now and then, Regis would utter a low keen, or accidentally let slip a groan as Geralt hit a tender spot. After the first couple times this happened, Geralt surprised him by placing a light kiss on the spots he’d offended after he’d finished with them. Regis’s heart fluttered slightly. The action was so endearing it made him ache.

Eventually Geralt finished with Regis’s shoulders and moved on to his neck. Geralt was closer now and Regis could feel the warmth of Geralt’s breath against his neck making him shiver. Vaguely, he registered Geralt shuddered in response, but by now Regis was so utterly pliant in the Witcher’s hands the notion was just passed on to other more important feelings. Regis was so relaxed that he radiated a deep sense of contentment and security. And love. Regis was so at peace he let the ache he'd been feeling from that not-so-little emotion slip in too.

Geralt groaned behind him and Regis shuddered as Geralt’s nose and lips brushed against his ear and neck. His left arm encircled Regis, while the thumb of the right continued to smooth soothing circles just below his other ear. “Regis…I…”

Regis leaned back into Geralt more fully and his eyes fluttered open. “Don’t say it,” Regis warned, his voice came out slightly deeper than normal and huskier due to his state of mind. Geralt’s warm breath in his ear wasn’t helping either. He hadn’t meant to let slip how deeply he cared for the Witcher, but it was still true. He’d loved the burly uncouth man for years.

Regis felt a hint of determination from Geralt as the man licked into his ear which caused Regis breath to catch and he shuddered. Shuddered from the love he suddenly felt roaring at him through the bond they shared.

He felt a sting in his eyes so he closed them, then inclined his head to the side as Geralt kissed and nuzzled against his neck. The arm that encircled Regis clutched him tighter, as if to never let him go. Love continued to pour through them from both sides. Adoration, longing, emotions Regis too had felt very keenly as of late and he was glad to finally be able to share.

“Nnnnn….” Regis keened lowly as Geralt playfully nipped at Regis neck. The hand on his neck smoothed up and cupped his jaw with a firmness that made Regis tremble. He turned his face towards Geralt’s who immediately abandoned Regis’s neck to capture his lips instead. Regis groaned and twisted his upper body around slightly to more fully face Geralt and flicked his tongue into the Witcher’s mouth, eliciting a deeper moan from the man. His body shaking, Regis clenched at Geralt’s dried shirt and breathed in deeply. He was lost in the spice of Geralt and the feelings raging between them that had gone unspoken for years.

Heat and tension began to pool down low, and Geralt’s left arm began to smooth down Regis’s side too. He could tell the same tension was building in Geralt, but they didn’t have to stop. Not yet. It was far too soon and they waited so long. But Geralt’s arm was going too far south for him to ignore, so Regis reluctantly broke their kiss.

Regis shuddered and pressed their foreheads together. He nuzzled Geralt and felt sorely tempted to reclaim the lips he’d reddened so shamelessly. “We…should stop.” The warmth of their breath mingled and the hand down low gripped his hip and held him close. Regis could feel confusion, then determination again through the bond.

“We should.” Geralt was breathless as well, eyes glazed over and blown wide. The dimming firelight danced in his yellow cat eyes and Regis was entranced.

“You could stop. But I don’t have to,” Geralt said softly, his voice deep and low.

Regis stiffened at the implications, ready to pull away and Geralt's eyes widened.

Fear pulsed through the bond followed quickly by regret, which startled Regis into stopping. He narrowed his eyes.

“Your inability to articulate is showing, Witcher.”

Geralt visibly sagged first in embarrassment and then in relief that Regis could actually feel. That’s because Regis understood the man and his blundering ways. “Yes. What I mean is—“ Geralt screwed his eyes shut and blinked a few times, apparently to help him focus. “Let me help you. You’re always helping me. Let me help you in one of the best ways I am able.”

Regis balked at that and blushed so hard that even in the dim firelight Geralt could see it.

“E---Excuse me?”

Geralt seemed to see and feel Regis’s embarrassment and pounced on it before he knew what happened. Geralt pulled Regis back close again and into a deep kiss. Regis melted into it, still keyed up from moments before, but broke away quickly after. Geralt nipped at Regis’s lip and sucked on it tenderly before Regis could pull away making him shudder. 

Opportunistic bastard.

“Explain. Now.” Regis closed his eyes, his body beginning to shake as Geralt’s free hand wound back down and slowly began pulling up his rough shirt.

“And you call yourself an intellect,” Geralt said as he teased and nuzzled into Regis’s ear. Calm and safe were vaguely felt through the bond, but Regis was too distracted by the implications of the conversation to take heed of them.

“Geral--ah!” Regis had meant to sound firm. He wanted to demand the Witchers reasoning behind this. But at that moment Geralt’s rough hands met the taut skin of his stomach and the man’s thumb began toying with the lip of his trousers making him cry out.

Opening his eyes, Regis scowled and grabbed Geralt’s hand, stalling him. “Enough. I can’t do this. Not right here. It’s…it’s too soon Geralt.” His voice shook despite his seriousness behind it.

Calm and safe were sent even more intensely than before. Regis felt the hand come up and draw their foreheads together once again. “I just want to relieve you, Regis. What did Dettlaff refer to it as again? Just a ‘pleasant release’? It doesn’t have to mean anything unless you want it to.”

Regis was still indecisive, and Geralt saw that and took advantage. Unsure what he wanted, Regis allowed Geralt to pull him into another kiss. This one was more tender and sensual. Slow and hesitant. Still Regis remained tense though his resolve was slowly fading. Geralt was right, it didn’t have to mean anything. But that was absurd. Melitele it meant so much, it meant everything to him. Just two days ago he was about to leave the man having given up hope entirely.

Regis felt a pang of hurt from Geralt’s end of the bond as they parted, and Geralt gazed at him. Hope and determination started to fade from the Witcher’s cat eyes as the silence stretched on.

That wouldn’t do, that wouldn’t do at all. It may seem like Geralt wanted to do this for Regis, but maybe it was for himself as well. As emotionally stunted and confused as Geralt says he is due to his training and the trials, maybe he needed this for clarity and solidarity? Even though they were still both blundering through this mess, trying to figure it out, Geralt seemed dead set on making his stance known.

Reddening in full, Regis closed his eyes and nuzzled Geralt sending love and acceptance. “Okay,” he said softly. He barely made a sound, so nervous was he to avoid saying the words. “Just a ‘pleasant release’, my dear Witcher. But you’re wrong. It means…so much. And as I said earlier, I swear, if I bat out on you during this and claim you for my own it is not my fault!”

Geralt’s eyes lit back up and then darkened at the threat. “I might like that, you bat. But not this time. If you ‘bat out’ you might wake our sleeping friend over there.”

Regis's eyes widened. “Oh no, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten about him. Geralt-,“ Regis whined slightly but was cut off, interrupted as Geralt claimed his lips again and his left hand ran up the underside of his shirt. Regis shuddered and stifled a groan. Reluctantly he broke away. “Geralt.” Regis eyes fluttered and he shivered as a thumb found a nipple.

Geralt cupped his face and bore into Regis’s hazy eyes. “You’re not backing out of this now. Stay in control and be quiet, or I’ll stop completely.” Geralt’s voice was authoritative and Regis let out a low trill as the hand found his other nipple and pinched it sending shocks of pleasure down to his core. His eyes glistened, torn between need and fear at losing himself to his instincts. But now that Regis had committed, he certainly didn’t want to stop. He just wished they could go somewhere more priv---

His train of thought was interrupted yet again when Geralt's free hand gently pulled his head back by his hair. With the wide opening to his neck, Geralt nuzzled it and bit at the soft flesh playfully then sucked, lavishing the tender spot with his tongue. Regis’s eyes fluttered shut at the slight pain in his scalp and the pain from what Geralt was doing to his neck. The tension began to slowly build again down low as tongue, teeth and hands worked. Geralt’s scent was all over him, over-saturating his sense of smell. Spice, earth, sweat, and now something else. It was heady, he couldn’t quite place it.

“Nnn..nn..” Regis stifled a moan as Geralt licked into his ear and sucked on the lobe. He could feel mirth on the other end of the bond, and vaguely registered that Geralt had made a note of it to later torture him with.

Regis watched through half lidded eyes as the hand that had been torturing him by wreaking havoc on his chest dipped low again. It traveled slowly down his chest playing with the thick hairs and scratching at the taut skin. Heat coiled expectantly as the fingers left a trail of fire in their wake, then they started to pull at the ties to his trousers. 

This was really happening.

Regis couldn’t quite believe it. It was a scenario he’d only dreamt of. Yet the fact that he was letting it happen and so soon mind-boggled him but his resolve was gone and he no longer cared. It was all sensations and pleasure and pure release of control to an intoxicating man three centuries younger than him and whose sole purpose in life was to eliminate beings _like him_.

Yet still he didn’t care. He didn’t care for anything except for the present. Like Geralt’s tongue as it flicked back into Regis’s mouth, and the way Geralt’s hand possessively cradled his jaw and neck, applying just enough force for it to feel restricted which in between the pressure and kissing, left him breathless. Not that he truly needed to breathe but it was exhilarating none-the-less.

Finally the pressure down low eased as Geralt drew him out. His essence oozed and trickled down from the tip. Geralt paused in his ministrations and Regis felt a pulse of longing and need as the man gazed down at it. The pulsing need Regis returned in full and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning and bucking up as Geralt’s warm hand gripped it. Instead he ground back into the stiffness pressing into his back.

Geralt shuddered and let out a hiss. “None of that. Can’t have you getting too excited and making good on your bat threat.” Geralt’s voice was deep and raspy, almost pained as he slowly stroked Regis.

Regis closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. He knew Geralt was right. But it had been so long since he’d felt anything but his own hand that he wasn’t sure how long he’d last.

“Look at it,” Geralt purred into his ear and nuzzled against it which made Regis shiver. He felt his head being turned to look, so he shifted his torso slightly too so he wouldn’t have to strain his neck. They were perfectly aligned now. Geralt’s hardness pressing into his lower back and Regis’s body rising and falling slightly with the Witchers breaths. He watched as Geralt’s hand slowly rose up and down his shaft, the oozing serum gathered slightly atop his fingers. Regis’s breath hitched and swollen lips fell open slightly as he was caught up in the feeling, his attention riveted on the motion.

Geralt resumed nuzzling and nibbling on Regis’s ear while his hand worked. Slowly up and down, then fast making Regis buck up into his hand and keen lowly. Then slow again, the hand paused at the top to twist at the head of his cock and rub his thumb across the tip before it started anew.

It was maddening. Regis trembled and shook. Geralt mumbled words into his ear, some sweet and some lude like: _so beautiful, _or _you’re so slick, _and _you liked that, didn’t you?_

Regis was nearing his limit and his control was steadily slipping. His iris were beginning to turn red, the pupils blown wide with black creeping in the corners of his sclera. One of his hands had permanently attached itself to Geralt’s arm, and the other latched onto the Witcher’s thigh. Geralt seemed to understand as his lips trailed down from Regis’s ear to his neck. Heat flared as lips teased the sensitive nook at the base and the hand increased pressure on his throat. It was then Regis almost lost himself.

Regis keened long and low from the breath restricting pressure, and Geralt quickened. His hand jerked almost wildly as it rotated between plucks and pulls, twists and rubs. Regis was losing himself. Losing control of his humanity or what he had left of it. He was wrestling with his transformation. His eyes were shifting colors back and forth as his breath came in ragged gasps. He’d given up on not molesting Geralt as his body became torn between rutting behind him or bucking forward into the hand that drove him mad. It was his claws that were the problem though. While his hands gripped to ground him, the claws lengthened, almost piercing Geralt’s flesh.

As lost as he was he knew deep down he couldn’t draw Geralt’s blood. Not now, not so soon. Not after what happened at Tesham Mutna. Not when he was already on the fringe of losing control.

Geralt sucked on his neck and laved at the sensitive spot making Regis see spots. It was now or never.

“Bite me,” Regis ground out, his voice ragged. The pain he hoped would ground him enough and have the additional effect of—

Blunt teeth and sharp canines bit deep into his neck sending him over the edge and Regis nearly blacked out as release took him. Black and white spots blinded him and his body writhed and trembled as the tension inside him was freed. Wave after wave of pleasure and relief ripped through his body. Barely remembering to be quiet, he bit the inside of his cheek and tongue to keep himself from moaning too loudly, but still, he did.

As the last of the tension left him and the spasms slowed to a stop, Regis sagged boneless against Geralt. He panted heavily, his eyes closed and hands slowly kneading the areas he’d gripped so tightly. Small pangs of pleasure zipped through his body, and his core was left with a dull empty ache. He could feel Geralt shudder behind him, and the man gently licked at the bloodied bite wound on his neck as it healed closed.

Geralt buried his face in Regis's neck and inhaled deeply. "Not only do you smell good, you taste good too." His voice was muffled, but Regis still heard him and the ache he'd been feeling in his chest intensified. Regis closed his eyes and rested for a moment, wanting to enjoy the pleasant unwinding. The heady scents of their musk and Geralt's spice...

Vaguely, and with thinly veiled shame and disgust, he registered the mess he’d made of his stomach and Geralt's hand, but he couldn’t find the strength to move to do something about it.

“I’m sorry, I---“

“Shhh it’s fine,“ Geralt mumbled, his voice slightly raspy as he detached himself from Regis's neck. Having read the bond, Geralt used his free hand to fish around inside Regis’s nearby pack and pulled out some linen bandage. Regis sighed and closed his eyes. He still felt disgusted, though now that he thought about it, he wasn’t the only one that was dirty.

“Wait…did you…?”

Geralt reddened and wrapped Regis back in his arms after he’d dealt with the issue and tucked Regis away. “Maybe. I’ll worry about it later.” Geralt nuzzled into Regis's hair behind his ear and inhaled, scenting him. Regis trilled lowly in response and nuzzled against Geralt. Utterly content and spent, his hands started kneading at the thicker arms that held him.

From the far end of the bond, Dettlaff made his presence known and sent _content_ and _satisfied_.

Regis’s stiffened slightly and his eyes widened.

Geralt groaned. “Wait. Was that…Dettlaff?...What did he say?” Geralt asked Regis from within his locks, the tone of voice suggesting he probably already knew.

“Dettlaff is a voyeuristic asshole. That is all.” Regis groused, though he sent back _content_ and _love_ to his blood brother anyway. Jerk.

Pouting slightly at being intruded upon, Regis turned onto his side so that he could snuggle up closer to his Witcher, the one he never thought he had a chance with. It truly is amazing how fate works. Or more like, how Ciri works. He’d really have to thank her appropriately someday.

“Go to sleep Regis. I’ll take the first watch.” Geralt offered as he sifted fingers through Regis’s hair and gently massaged his scalp. Regis let out another low purr-like trill and nuzzled into Geralt’s chest. “Maybe I should allow you to play ‘relief Doctor’ more often.” His voice was muffled, but the vibration from Geralt’s chuckle proved he heard just fine.

“Go to sleep my vampire friend.”

Sifting fingers and the lingering afterglow quickly had Regis drifting off into relaxed sleep, though before he did he felt an intense pulse of love and happiness from his Witcher which Regis took with him into his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Read Baptism In Blood if you just read this as a one shot
> 
> READ IT  
GOOOOOO  
IT IS SO GOOD
> 
> Also things do not happen this quickly. Prepare for a slow burn. Slooooooow burn. They are potato heads.


End file.
